Too Much To Ask
by CelloAstro
Summary: Angsty drabble-shot. Matt's POV. More information inside. I realize I need to get a wider range of POV character abilities, but I feel this is enough for now.


Pairings: Onesided!Matt/Mello, Stalker!Onesided!Near/Matt, Past!Abusive!L/Matt

A/N: Based on true enjoy.

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><p>Love.<p>

Something simple, something that I don't even need to think about. Something like breathing. Something that's just instinct, no effort. Voluntarily involuntary. Is that too much to ask?

I've been thinking for my entire life about things that **didn't matter.** Now that I've found something that actually does, _ I don't want to think about it._ That might make it meaningless.

Something like Mello. That's what I want. We've been friends since he arrived at Wammy's twelve years ago, when I saw him glaring at me like a scared bear cub from behind Roger in my doorframe.

It would be ember. Something warm, maybe fleeting and dim, but still warm. Embers last longer than the original fire anyways.

It would be easy conversation, stupid inside jokes, maybe while holding hands if I could convince him to. Watching all my geeky shows, and his action shows with too many girls, him yelling at me or rolling his eyes or shaking his head when I do something stupid, me making fun of him when he gets flustered. Just like we do now. Except with shy embraces and handholding. Easy. Reflexive. **Simple.**

Nothing like with L. L was **fire,** L was older, L was thrilling. L was rough kisses, and reluctantly accepted invasive touches that never went too far but were still _unwanted_, but weren't stopped because they were **warm** after I'd been waiting so long in the cold. L was controlling, he called me stupid and **meant it**, **dragged me **when I didn't walk. L was normal looks in public, but when he thought no-one could see, his eyes were **fire**. Suggesting more and taking it when he saw **weakness.** When he left to work as the head in the Kira case, he left me a necklace. A reminder of his control. Yanking at your neck meant you **couldn't refuse**. And with L, _I really couldn't._ I wore that necklace under my shirt for weeks after he left, crying and screaming and pulling at my hair when I was sure no-one could see because **he was gone** and he left me back in the cold, with the same warmth right above the reach of my fingertips. I never heard him again.

Mello could save me. Mello would be softer. Mello would let me walk on my own, and wouldn't leave me behind if I didn't go willingly. Mello's gaze wouldn't be fire, it'd be autumn. Softer, calmer, gentler. Just what I want. He would hide behind eye-rolls and sarcasm, but I would work to draw out the real Mello. Warm cat and mouse.

Nothing like Near. Near was ice. Near was cold, empty, **wanting** stares from across rooms and through hallways. Near was ask after ask after ask for my hand, and me refusal after refusal after refusal to his requests, getting more and more _frantic_ as he got more and more **desperate**. Near was normal conversations turned hazardous by his endless suggestions and questions. Nowhere to go if I'm cornered. Trying to break into my room, once being successful and being chased out. Never leaving me alone. Sarcasm and biting never having an _effect._ Endless staring. Try after try for freedom from his cold. Him running to Linda when he's upset about, who runs back and forth between us, a reluctant accidental messenger. Cycle after cycle. **He drags me further into the cold.**

Mello protects me. Tells me to ask him for help if Near ever does anything, if _anyone_ ever does anything. My other friends just want me to be happy, no matter what it would cost me in the long run, but Mello wants me to be _safe_, even if safe won't make me happy. Not with Near, not with L, not with anybody who's come calling for my hand, or calling for me to take theirs. None of them were safe to Mello. Maybe he would be happy with himself?

**Simplicity.** For the things he says and does that the back of my mind translates into suggestion-instinct to protect myself from being dragged- but that I myself know aren't and don't really see that way to _actually be that._ For ember instead of flame. For protection instead of cold, empty stares. For warmth instead of this neverending cold.

For Mello.

Maybe that really is too much to ask.

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><p>AN: This one goes to my Mello. You probably don't know who you are, and most likely don't return these feelings. But if you know who you are, and I can't be your Matt, or you don't want me to be, I hope you'll find yours someday. That's my wish for you.

Thank you for reading.


End file.
